Sweet and Sassy Baby Love Read online

  SWEET and SASSY

  BABY LOVE

  by

  NYT and USA Today bestselling authors

  Alicia Street

  Natalie Ann

  Mimi Barbour

  Suzanne Jenkins

  Mona Risk

  Jen Talty

  Leanne Banks

  Donna Fasano

  Jacquie Biggar

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors offer stories of men and women who go to great lengths for the children they love.

  A scent of innocence, that touch of softness, an angelic nap, and deep belly laughs. Babies and toddlers bring great joy, love, humor, and even conflict into our lives. But first, we need a passionate encounter, a romance that transcends time.

  Marriage-of-convenience, a woman and child in danger, a platonic marriage (but not for long), an adoption in the nick of time, finding out there’s more to life than work, holding on to love at any cost, and a brother’s love for the mother of his nephew—these are the themes that make this bundle a very special delivery!

  SWEET and SASSY

  BABY LOVE

  ISBN: 978-1-946752-55-0

  ENCORE LOVERS, Alicia Street, USA Today bestselling author: No one knows her secret, not even him. But that is about to change.

  FOREVER LOVE, Natalie Ann, USA Today bestselling author: Can their pretend marriage lead to the forever love and family they always wanted?

  HE’S MY BABY, Mimi Barbour, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author: He’s the uncle, and she just adopted his nephew—who gets the baby?

  SPECIAL DELIVERY, Suzanne Jenkins, USA Today bestselling author: When firefighter Tony Saint laid eyes on EMT Bridget Clark, it was love at first sight. That love would carry them through any trial when the unexpected happened.

  CHRISTMAS BABIES, Mona Risk, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author: The serious doc never had time for fun or love until twin babies teach her there’s more to life than work and career.

  TO PROTECT HIS OWN, Jen Talty, USA Today bestselling author: If Kenzie wants to hold onto the only man she’s ever loved, she’s going to have to dig up the darkest betrayal of all. A lie so damming it holds the power to destroy the very thing she’s trying to save…

  BEDDED BY THE BILLIONAIRE, Leanne Banks, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author: She is the mother of the child of his dead brother, and he will do anything to protect her and her baby.

  AN ACCIDENTAL FAMILY, Donna Fasano, USA Today bestselling author: A temporary—strictly platonic—marriage… yeah, right.

  TIDAL FALLS, Jacquie Biggar, USA Today bestselling author: A woman and child in danger teach Nick life is worth living.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ENCORE LOVERS

  FOREVER LOVE

  HE’S MY BABY

  SPECIAL DELIVERY

  CHRISTMAS BABIES

  TO PROTECT HIS OWN

  BEDDED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

  AN ACCIDENTAL FAMILY

  TIDAL FALLS

  Also by the Authors’ Billboard

  ENCORE LOVERS

  Encore Lovers

  The Rocklyns

  Alicia Street

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019, Alicia Street

  Book Description

  Emerson Cliffords never had it easy, but when she left town with a broken heart and a baby on the way, she fought hard to rebuild her life and care for her child. When she moves back to her hometown to help save her father’s business and the family home, no one knows her secret. But that is about to change.

  Matt was the oldest of the Rocklyn sons, often dubbed the “crown prince” of the successful Rocklyn vineyard and winery. Following in the footsteps of his dynamic father, having enjoyed his rep as big guy in a small town since his youth, it takes the woman he left behind to make him realize he has been walking through life blindly. But is it too late for him to turn it around and get it right?

  Praise and Awards

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Daphne du Maurier Award-winning Author

  “After reading one book by this author, I had to read them all!”~ Reader Review

  “So much depth, emotion, passion and love.” ~ Unputdownable Books

  “If you’ve never read a romance by Alicia Street, you’re in for a real treat.” ~Leisure Zone

  Chapter One

  Em Cliffords could never resist a snowball fight. And today the snow was sparkling fresh, the kind that held together when you packed it between your hands.

  It started as an innocent adrenaline release after the news she’d just gotten dumped on her head. She relished the way every snowball she threw exploded against the brick wall of the building that bordered the snow-covered square at this end of town. Before she knew it, Em was hurling one after the other, her arm winding up and thrusting with all her might, a breathy grunt releasing with each pitch.

  In the midst of her snowball frenzy, she suddenly felt a thud hit the back of her down parka, spraying snow onto her head and shoulders from the strike. She turned to see Ricky, the sixteen-year-old she’d hired to help in the shop, ready to pitch another slider at her.

  Of course Em had to return the favor, and within minutes she was laughing and shrieking and flinging snowballs back and forth with a bunch of teens. And naturally, being the only adult in the group, it would be her snowball that hit the guy walking to a car parked a little too close to the action.

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” Em rushed over, offering a million apologies as she ran toward the man, ready to hand sweep the snow off his black leather jacket. But when he turned to her, the day she had thought could not get any worse took a major nose dive.

  She silently ordered her knees not to buckle and squared her shoulders, refusing to acknowledge the paralyzing tightness in her chest at seeing the face of the man she had once loved with every bit of her heart and soul.

  Matthew Rocklyn.

  Still gorgeous despite the annoyed look on his face that no doubt had something to do with the fact that he’d just gotten smacked by a snowball. He used to tease her, saying she didn’t want to grow up—and considering the way she must look standing here all flushed and disheveled from a raucous snowball fight, she had to admit he was right. But that didn’t mean she would subject herself to coming up short in his eyes. She’d had her fill of that years ago, thank you very much.

  “Sorry about the snowball,” she mumbled, turning quickly away.

  She was about to scamper off when a hand reached out and snatched her wrist, stopping her. “Em? Is that you under all those scarves?”

  Hearing him say her name cut straight to her core. It was that same hypnotic voice she used to hear on the phone every night before she went to sleep—the only one that could keep her nightmares at bay.

  I am not going to cry. I am not going to cry.

  She tugged her arm from his grasp and risked a glance at him. The lines of his handsome face softened as he smiled and those amber eyes of his studied her with what appeared to be affection. Or was it merely curiosity? She told herself she didn’t really care either way. She wasn’t about to open that door, only to have it slammed in her face again—no matter how much her insides melted at the sight of him.

  Keeping her voice as steady and as flat as possible, she said, “Well, hey, look who it is.”

  “I thought you were still living in Pennsylvania,” he said.

  “No
pe.”

  “You moved back here? Permanently?”

  “Yep.” No way was she going to have a cute little “catching up” conversation with him. “Well, Happy New Year,” she said, even though March had begun three days ago. She turned to go, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way and once again grasping her arm.

  “Wait. You can’t just leave.”

  “I most certainly can.” Her words came out sharper than she’d intended. Actually that wasn’t true. A big part of her wanted very much to shout at him, scream out her rage at him, but that would only let him know how much he had meant to her—when she had obviously meant nothing to him. She kept her cool and gently removed his hand.

  “Come on, Em, it’s been four years since we’ve seen each other and you’re just going to walk away?”

  “Why not? You did,” she snapped with a cold glare that silenced him. So much for her attempt at holding back her anger. The immediate shift in his expression told her she had hit home. Was it sadness? Regret? Or more likely just his ego deflating at the thought of her not wanting him anymore. In any case, the verbal strike didn’t give her the satisfaction she had once thought it would.

  Not willing to hear whatever bullshit reply he might come up with, Em sidestepped him and hurried down the street.

  “Em, wait…”

  She kept on walking, struggling against tears and the magnetic pull of his burning gaze that she could feel riveted on her back.

  Before reaching the side street where Jack’s Bait and Tackle was, an icy wind off the marina hit her, the brisk chill bringing her back to the present—and reminding her that she had originally left the shop to go pick up lunch sandwiches for her father and herself. She made a swift detour for The Blue Albatross tavern. Their lunch menu was a bit pricier than she had intended, but no way would she head back toward the deli and risk running into Matt again.

  “Hey, there she is,” Phil Sheehan said, giving Em his usual warm welcome as soon as she stepped through the door.

  Phil and his hunky nephew owned The Blue Albatross. They were what her dad would call “good people.” Somehow they managed to run a bar-restaurant that appealed to the uppity tourists and yacht owners who made Greenport one of their regular stops as well as keeping it a homey eatery for locals. Of course, it didn’t hurt that “Uncle Phil” was an avid fisherman who considered her dad his mentor and was one of Jack’s Bait and Tackle’s best customers.

  “Beer, soda, coffee?” Phil said.

  Em shook her head. “I’m just here to get a takeout.” And recover from the shock of seeing Matt Rocklyn again. Thank God it was a day when she had not brought Sadie into the shop with her.

  “Come sit at the bar and have a coffee while you wait for your order. Or how about a hot chocolate to warm you up?”

  “Okay, a hot chocolate sounds good,” Em said, as Phil herded her to a seat at the bar that ran along one side of the tavern, its dark wood matching the wood molding on the walls, fishermen paraphernalia hanging behind the bar.

  The lighting seemed dim compared to the bright winter sun she had just come from, but this place was never dreary. Phil had so much energy. So different from her quiet father who had always been a soft-spoken take-your-time kind of man and slightly taciturn. He’d gotten even slower after his last bout with the bottle, thanks to a nasty tumble that left him walking with a cane. And with all the worries that kept piling up, what would this latest crisis do to him?

  “Your dad loves my fish and chips platter,” Phil said. “Why don’t I put in an order for two of those? And I’ve got a new clam chowder with a secret ingredient.”

  Em had only planned to get a couple tuna sandwiches, but last night another freelance job had come in for her online graphic arts business, so she just murmured, “Sounds good.” Not that any objection would make a difference since Phil had already set off for the kitchen.

  She had barely taken off her gloves—all wet now after throwing snowballs—when Gayle appeared at her side. The short, dark-haired waitress, whose son went to the same daycare center as Em’s three-year-old daughter, slid a mug of steaming hot chocolate topped with a mountain of whipped cream in front of her. “Here’s another three hundred calories for you, not that it ever shows on you. But then, between your dad and your daughter, you probably never sit still long enough to gain any weight.”

  Em laughed, grateful to see friendly faces today. “Hey, Gayle. I’m guessing little Jake’s ear infection cleared up since you’re able to return to work.”

  “Yeah, he’s back at Julia’s, no doubt giving her a workout.”

  Gayle left to take care of other customers. Even though the Albatross had become a popular scene for the dating crowd on nights and weekends, there were more customers here than Em expected for a lunch hour at this time of year. While Greenport and its surrounding towns had permanent residents, it was the summer influx that kept many of the businesses flourishing.

  Phil placed a bowl of hot chowder in front of Em as he perched on the bar stool next to her with his own perpetual mug of coffee. “Try this. I bet you can’t figure out my secret ingredient.”

  Em moaned and then laughed. Phil was always tweaking his recipes with things she had never even heard of. A gourmet cook she was not. Plain, simple, nourishing—and something her daughter would not refuse to eat—was what worked for her at home.

  “You know I never guess right.” She picked up the spoon Phil had set on a napkin next to the bowl and dug in. “Wow. This is great. You make the very, very best soups in the world. Will you marry me?”

  Phil burst into laughter. “You’ve made my day, Ms. Emerson Cliffords.” When his laughter subsided he gave her a fatherly look that somehow was not obnoxious on him but sweet. And he was sensitive enough to leave unspoken the questions he must have—like why her daughter had Em’s last name and no father or why she kept turning down dates with one of Phil’s bartenders who’d been asking her to go out with him ever since she moved back here five months ago.

  Instead he surprised her with, “I talked to your dad this morning. He told me your landlord sold the store building right out from under you. I can put out feelers for another place. Are you looking?”

  Luckily Em had already polished off the chowder. Otherwise it would go to waste, as her stomach knotted at the reminder of the fact that the business her dad had started thirty years ago was likely going to fold. She had grown up playing in her father’s bait and tackle shop and then started working there in her teens. In fact it had become their own little world after her mother left when Em was seven years old.

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that. The bank turned us down for a mortgage on the property the store is in now so it looks likes we’ll have to go for another rental situation. A week ago I tried to talk our landlord into renewing our lease for six months to give us time to find a place to relocate, but, yeah, this morning he called us and said it’s been sold and we’ll have one month, two at the most, to clear the premises.”

  Phil sipped his coffee and shook his head. “It’s a shame. A year ago I might have said, okay, the store isn’t doing so hot and Jack seems ready to retire anyway, but when you moved back here and started those workshops and marketing programs…well, in the five months you’ve been here I can see you are not only saving the business, you’re also bringing your dad to life again.”

  “I should have come back sooner. I didn’t know—”

  “Because he didn’t want you to know.” Phil patted her arm. “Don’t fault yourself. You are the best daughter anyone could ask for.”

  Gayle came toward them and set a big bag of food on the bar before heading off to wait on a table. “Mmm, that smells great,” Em said, “but it looks too big to be my order.”

  Phil shrugged. “I added some chowder for Jack and I know he likes that apple pie I have. The crab nachos are for you. And little Sadie liked the potato puffs last time you guys ate here.”

  It would be over her planned lunch budget, but
she could use some of it for dinner. And Em wasn’t about to offend Phil who was both customer and friend for to her father. So she just laughed and got up from the bar stool. “Okay, where is the check?”

  “It’s on me.”

  “No, Phil. What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Phillll…”

  “For one thing, your dad has taught me more about fishing skills and equipment than I could ever learn on my own. Another thing—I don’t have a daughter of my own to tell me I make the best soup in the world.”

  ***

  Matt had always loved driving along the narrow peninsula of the North Fork, the place that had been his family’s home since before the Revolutionary War. In every different season there was something special about the sunlight on this skinny strip of land that jutted over a hundred miles into the Atlantic Ocean.

  Most people didn’t know the East End of New York’s Long Island had acres of farmland and briny fishing villages, although the international wine-making community had begun to take note of the vineyards that had sprouted up here, dubbing the North Fork the Napa of the East Coast.

  But today, heading west from Greenport to his family’s vineyard and winery in North Cove, the peace he usually settled into was not there. And he knew why. He was driving along the same country road he used to take from Em’s place four years ago.

  Did she hate him? Sure sounded like it. And he couldn’t blame her if she did.